


Clean Me Up

by Dirty_Corza



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Baking, Cake, Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 04:46:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dirty_Corza/pseuds/Dirty_Corza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg and his teenage daughter Beth always get a bit out of hand while baking. It's a good thing Mycroft is there to get his partner cleaned up again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clean Me Up

Greg wasn't feeling stressed. He'd had to use an emergency leave day to get out of work, and it might take a month to get the flour out of his hair, but stressed was not a word that would describe him as he stood with Bethany in the kitchen. There was laughter as a spoon full of cake batter was flicked his direction, and a squeal when he retaliated with a dollop of frosting that hit the back of his teenage daughter's hair.

“Dad!” she tried to yell at him through her giggles, “I'm trying to bake a cake here, mister.”

He grinned over his shoulder at her as he stirred the frosting one last time, “And I'm trying to make frosting for said cake, little miss.” 

She slid the cake pan into the oven before turning on him. “Yeah, well, the frosting can be made again. We ruin this one, and I am not spending another three hours mixing batter.” 

He placed a hand on his heart, trying to look taken aback by the accusing look in her eyes. “I was nothing but helpful! Besides, you were the one that decided to spill the bag of flour.”

“I didn't decide anything!” She reached up, ruffling his hair and wrinkling her nose at the shower of white powder that rained down. “You're the one who tickled me as I was getting it off the shelf.”

“Not the one that threw the first handful.”

“But the one who had to be sure to throw the last.”

“Good thing I was prepared this time and there was a second bag, hm?”

They burst into giggles together, faces nearly identical with their grins, their laughter harmonizing.

“How long on the cake, Beth?” Greg asked his daughter once they finally calmed down. 

“Twenty minutes, give or take.”

“Do I have enough time for a quick, teensy tiny phone call?”

She took a step back, hands on her hips. “Are you going to call that boy?”

Amused at Bethany saying ‘that boy’ when the person in question was anything but, Greg crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter. “And if I am?”

She got a mischievous grin. “Then you have got to invite him over for dinner. And dessert. And to help you wash the flour out of your hair.”

How his daughter kept a straight face when she said that, Greg didn't know, but she sure didn't gain the ability from him. Just hearing her imply that was enough to bring high points of color to his cheeks. “Bethany!”

Her poker face didn't break as she turned to fiddle with the stove. “What? Mycroft is good at cleaning you up. I like whatever he does with your hair.”

“Young lady, we are going to have a serious talk about this- this implying I should invite my partner over for the purpose of showering together when I'm supposed to be spending a surprise weekend with you.”

She turned back, an innocent smile on her face. “Come on, Anthea'd be in charge. What on earth could go wrong?”

“I think you've hit the nail on the head. Especially when we factor in your mother finding out.”

Beth shrugged, “Not like I really care what she says anyways. She's a-”

Greg stopped his daughter with a single raised finger. “No. You are not going to talk about her like that. Not under this roof. Regardless of what-”

“Who,” she muttered across the room.

“She's done, you are not to speak ill of her here.”

“Fine.” she said with a sigh. “Now go, call Mycroft! This cake is going to be the best, he can't miss it!”

\- - -

They were still licking frosting off their fingers when Mycroft arrived, taking turns to dip into the bowl of leftover sugary goodness for a sweet snack that would ruin their dinners. He stood in the doorway, just outside the radius of the flour they still hadn't cleaned up.

“I needn’t ask if you two have been having fun.” Mycroft’s face bore a small smile as he took in the scene, raising an eyebrow pointedly when he caught Greg's eye.

“Mycroft!” Greg only barely managed to catch Beth's arm when she turned, ready to run to Mycroft and ruin a wonderful suit with a hug that would have been more batter, flour and frosting than 13-year-old girl.

“We might've had a little bit of fun, yeah.” Greg was grinning ear to ear as he spoke, settling for giving his daughter a tight hug instead of going to hug Mycroft, far too mindful of the smart suit his partner wore to risk ruining it.

Mycroft looked between the two of them, calculating something Greg couldn't read, and then he was stepping over the line of flour, ruffling Greg's hair, and meeting his eyes as he tugged Greg's arms away from Beth, letting her hug him tightly. His smile didn't diminish, if anything, Greg saw it grow brighter at the way the girl -young lady, Mycroft would have said- hugged him. “Was this all done in my honor?” Mycroft asked, “A cake baked from scratch is my favorite thing, you know.”

Beth beamed at him, nodding vigorously. “I knew if we baked a cake, he wouldn't be able to resist calling you and inviting you over, and it's so lovely to see you, and I am sorry about your suit, but he started it, he really did.”

Mycroft nodded in sage agreement. “Your dad likes to start things that make a mess. Good thing I'm here to help get cleaned up, hm? And I brought dinner.”

Beth pushed back, hope glimmering in her eyes. “Is Anthea bringing it up? Can I go help?”

“Of course she is, and I think that's why she isn't up here already.”

Beth was running excitedly out the kitchen door only seconds later, leaving Mycroft and Greg both smiling fondly as they watched.

“You spoil her rotten, you know.” Greg reached for Mycroft's hand, holding it tight as he tugged his partner in for a soft kiss. 

Mycroft smirked against his lips, “Wonder who I picked that up from. Couldn't have been her dad, now could it? He doesn't do silly things like host a food fight while baking a cake, just so her mind gets taken off the fact her mother went on another vacation without telling her first, leaving her behind.”

Greg shook his head. “Of course not, her dad wouldn't be nearly so obvious.”

“No. He's much more nefarious. Doing it just so his lover's suit would become filthy, and he'd have to get it off of him before dinner.”

Greg couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up. “That was her plan, not mine, I swear. Though why my daughter is making plans like that...”

Mycroft grinned, “She's a smart girl. And thirteen is plenty old enough to know what her parents do and whether or not she approves. I'm glad she approves of us.”

Greg thought back to the scathing comments his daughter made about his wife, and nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Me too.”

Mycroft took a step back, looking his partner up and down before giving the same scrutiny to himself. “I believe there was some mention of getting you and I cleaned up?”

Greg grinned, letting himself be led through his home , ignoring the trail of flour that he left behind as he was led to his bedroom. “We'll have to be quick, though, getting cleaned up. I expected to have the time while dinner was being made to get cleaned up.”

There was a twinkle of mischief in Mycroft's eyes as he started to unbutton Greg's shirt. “I expect we have a while. Anthea has plans for what she's making tonight, and we brought all the ingredients, but she can't stand to cook in a dirty kitchen.”

“You planned for this?”

“Well, either you would have managed not to make your kitchen a mess, and we'd have a little alone time while Anthea and Beth made dinner, or you'd be a mess and both you and the kitchen would need to be cleaned up. Either way, Beth gets some quality time with a woman who cares about Beth’s opinion of herself, while you and I get some quality time with each other.”

“You're bloody brilliant.” Greg reached for Mycroft's lapels, tugging him closer before he began to undress him, the jacket falling to the floor in tandem with his own shirt.

Mycroft leaned in for another soft kiss. “What wouldn't I do when it comes to you?”

Greg grinned, fingers fumbling over the buttons on Mycroft's waistcoat, “Apparently not a lot. I expected the line to be drawn when the health of one of your suits was in question.”

That was met with a deeper kiss, an arm around Greg's back pulling him so close his hands were forced to pause in their mission to undress Mycroft. When he finally broke away, Mycroft stared pointedly into Greg's eyes. “I've grown to love you. And if ruining a suit is what it takes to see a smile on your face, to see your daughter smile, then the suit will be ruined. Because her happiness is important to you, and your happiness is important to me. Understand?”

Greg nodded, any words he had thought to say stuck in his throat.

“Now come on, we need to finish getting undressed so we can get cleaned up. I don't want to be late for dinner, after all. It would mean missing dessert.”

“And we can't have that, now, can we?”

“Not a chance.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Ruvy91 over on tumblr, for the Mystrade Summer Fic Exchange! :D
> 
> And beta'd by the ever brilliant, ever lovely, Random Nexus who is a sweetie for doing that for me. :'D


End file.
